


Implied Naked Butts

by wannaliveindeansdimples



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Crack, F/F, Humor, M/M, Pie, Post-Canon, Strippers & Strip Clubs, gratuitous flirting, implied lesbian threesome, implied naked butts, lap dance, probably, unauthorized use of yogurt in the impala
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-25
Updated: 2015-03-25
Packaged: 2018-03-19 12:48:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3610653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wannaliveindeansdimples/pseuds/wannaliveindeansdimples
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charlie puts surveillance on the bunker and winds up having what might be the weirdest day of her life. Dean goes looking for a little revenge and ends up finding much more than he bargained for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Implied Naked Butts

**Author's Note:**

  * For [songflightgirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/songflightgirl/gifts).



> This is for the beautimous, lovely, talented, amazing, hilarious, dorky, insane, wonderlicious M, Presh, BFEL, Chuckles, aka the one and only [Charlie](http://charliebradburyismylesbianmuse.tumblr.com) to celebrate the anniversary of her expulsion from the womb-I expect it won't be the last time she causes a ruckus and gets kicked out, either. xD 
> 
> This is completely crack, utterly ridiculous and I hope you like it, even if everyone else thinks I'm insane. ALSO, please note that it is post #69 on Ao3 because #wearebothmatureadultsdammit.
> 
> ~~PS I USED YOUR FAVORITE TAG PLEASE DON'T HIT ME I WILL FIGHT YOU BIRTHDAY GIRL~~
> 
>  All the ♥'s in the world, doll face.

When Charlie’s alarm blared its “Walkin’ On Sunshine” wakeup call, she hopped out of bed and went straight to the coffee machine before heading to the bathroom. By the time she got out of the shower, her tea was all ready.

“Damn right I brew tea in my coffee maker,” she told the empty kitchen. “The Man’s not going to tell this redhead how to live her life!”

After half a cup of the sweet, lovely life juice that was her apple cinnamon zinger tea, she booted up the mobile crime-fighting unit, AKA her laptop, Jenny. The first thing she did was check on the boys. She’d set up surveillance in the bunker—which she was sure they’d be totally fine with, if she ever decided to tell them. It wasn’t like she set it up anywhere creepy.

“Aw, dude!” she said aloud as Dean walked into frame scratching his junk while eating cereal in his boxers. “Boys are so gross, Dana,” she told her Scully action figure. Scully stood there stoically next to her—no doubt equally gross—partner Mulder and said nothing.

Deciding the boys were fine for the moment, she moved on to moving some funds around. She liberated some bad juju money from the GOP accounts first, bouncing it around through untraceable places in the Caymens before routing it into her own bank balance.

“If you didn’t want me to steal from you, then you shouldn’t have waged a war on women,” she said as she funneled the money. “Because Karma is a bitch and that bitch is named Charlie Bradbury, bitches.”

She knew the word bitches was technically a tool of the patriarchy, but she felt like she used it non-gender-specifically enough to make it fly. It was just such a satisfying word. It was the hard “Ch” sound. Like Charlie. Or crotch. The image of Dean scratching himself rose in her mind and she shuddered.

“At least I can’t mind-read with those cameras, Deanie-Baby. I’ve read enough from Carver Edlund about all those thinky-thoughts you have about a certain dreamy angel. Ex-angel? God, I can’t keep up,” she said, reaching for her now empty mug of tea. “Charlie, you probably need to quit talking to yourself. Maybe it’s time for a girlfriend.”

Just then she got a text notification on her phone. She checked. Gilda. Of course.

“No,” she said aloud. “Just no. I love ya, Gilly, but you are too dang possessive and clingy. This little birdie has to fly free.”

She didn’t bother answering the text. Instead, she put on some cotton gloves and gathered up some letters that needed mailing and decided to head out to the post office. She had to wear the gloves to make sure no fingerprints or DNA made its way onto the envelopes. Anarchy was no good if you got busted. And sure, in the FBI database, her fingerprints were linked to Sarah Palin and her DNA said she was Rick Perry, but Charlie was saving those for something a little more special than harassing letters to slutty congressmen.

When she got to the post office, she took a moment to appreciate the fine curves of the 5’8” brunette standing in line in front of her. The girl was probably a little outside the “half your age plus seven” rule, but Charlie was all about breaking rules. She could only see the side of her face, but that one side looked pretty cute. She was wearing a knit cap that gave her a fisher woman vibe. Charlie was digging it.

“Hello, Charlie!” the matronly postmistress said as the brunette reached the counter.

Charlie looked up in surprise, only to realize the woman was talking to the brunette, not to her. What a weird coincidence! Cute _and_ she had a good name? Life was really odd.

“Hey, Mrs. B! How’s your dog doing?” Her voice was even cuter than the side of her face.

_Keep it in your pants, Charlie_ , the redhead told herself. _She’s probably straight and has an All-American boyfriend and hates cats or something._

“Oh, she’s fine. How’s your kitty Sparkle doing?”

_Dammit! Of course she loves cats. She’s perfection in a knit cap._

“Still as saucy as ever,” the brunette Charlie said.

She put an accent on saucy and redhead Charlie thought that might have been the moment she fell hopelessly in love with her forever. Or, at least for now. Forever was kind of a long time. She was pretty hot, though.

“You need anything else, dear?”

“No, thanks, Mrs. B. You have a good day,” she said, turning around and smiling at Charlie Bradbury when she saw her standing there.

When the girl stepped away, Charlie took a chance and scribbled on a business card and then said, “Excuse me, Miss? You dropped this!”

“Oh, okay, thanks!” the brunette said, taking the card with another smile before walking out the door.

On it, Charlie had written “Hi, I’m Charlie too. Call me sometime,” along with a burner phone number and a smiley face. As she stepped up to the counter to mail her letters, she saw movement from the corner of her eye and realized the other Charlie had stopped to read the note. The brunette looked up at the redhead and gave a shy smile, before blushing redder than Charlie’s hair and ducking her head. Then she ran out to the parking lot.

“She’s bisexual, you know,” the postmistress said conversationally as she handed Charlie the stamps she needed.

“Oh?” Charlie asked, as innocently as it was possible for her to sound.

The postmistress gave her a knowing smile. “She’s probably gone to get her some pie. If you hurry, you can catch her. The diner’s just around the corner that way,” she said, winking and pointing Charlie in the direction her dream girl had gone.

“Thanks!” she called, grabbing her stamps and running out the door.

She found the diner easily. She stopped and took a deep breath before walking inside. She didn’t see her quarry at first, but then she noticed her, standing to the side with a cell phone up to her ear. Just at that moment, Charlie’s phone rang in her pocket. Before she could answer, the other Charlie made eye contact and smiled, pointing at her phone, then at Charlie.

“Pick it up,” she mouthed.

“Uh, hello?”

“Hi, Charlie. My name’s not really Charlie. That’s more like my nickname. For now you can call me Chuckles, so things don’t get confusing. Wanna grab that booth in the corner for us and I’ll buy you a slice of the best pie you’ll ever eat?”

“You’ve got to meet my friend Dean. You’re practically his spirit animal,” Charlie said, making her way to the indicated table.

“I think it’s a little soon to be meeting the friends. Let’s get through pie first.” With that, there was a click in Charlie’s ear.

“Hi, welcome to P’s, what can I get you?” asked a waiter, whose name tag read Skyler.

“Uh, I’m waiting for my—”

“We’re both going to have ice tea and a slice of today’s pie special, Sky.”

“You’re the boss, Gem. You better watch this one,” Skyler warned Charlie with a smile.

“So, you’re Gem?”

Charlie/Chuckles/Gem shrugged. “It’s as good a name as any. I’m a big nickname person. Speaking of which, I’m going to call you Blue.”

“Uh, okay, why?” Charlie asked, unused to not being the aggressor, but kinda sorta liking it a little bit.

“Because I’m sure there’s a fuckton of people who call you Red. I like to be different,” Gem said with a shrug. “Now, you should know that I technically have a girlfriend. However, we have an agreement about redheads who meet very specific criteria. So I need to know which episode of Firefly is your favorite—and don’t lie because I will know,” she said, pointing an accusing finger.

Charlie scoffed. “Uh, all of them? Obviously.”

“Sweet! And are you a huge computer nerd with a dangerous past and shady methods of staying financially solvent?” she asked as though she were inquiring about the weather forecast.

“Again, obviously.”

Gem grinned. “Awesome! PanAm is gonna be so excited!” Gem leaned forward. “You are down for a threeway, right? Otherwise, this is gonna be awkward.”

Charlie was at a loss for words, as she felt her fair skin light up with a blush. “Um, I guess? I haven’t really—”

“Oh, hey, there’s PanAm now!” Gem said, waving frantically at someone behind Charlie.

Another young woman sat down next to Gem, looking at Charlie like she might be a zoo exhibit. “Oh, wow,” she said, dragging the syllable out. “You were right, G. Uh, hi, I’m PanAm. You must be Charlie.”

“Here’s your pie ladies! Oh, hey, I didn’t know Pan was joining you guys,” Skyler said.

“Oh, I don’t need anything, I just ate,” PanAm said, not taking her eyes off of Charlie. “I just came by to meet Gem’s friend.”

Charlie felt like she was watching a movie instead of living real life, so many things she didn’t understand were happening all at once. Then everything got even weirder.

Gem’s eyes went wide and she and PanAm looked at each other. “Dude! We should totally go to that strip club when we finish our pie! Here, help me eat mine.”

Charlie, not knowing what else to do, took a bite of pie. She had to admit, Gem was right. It was damn good pie. Maybe she’d bring Dean here sometime. He’d like it a lot. Bisexuals and pie? Totally his wheelhouse.

“Great pie. So, um, strip club?” Charlie asked in between bites.

“Yeah, there’s this great act tonight, I think you’ll like it,” Gem said, sharing pie bites with PanAm

“She’s hot,” PanAm interjected.

“So hot.” Gem nodded. “Anyway, we could do that before....” She leaned forward and lowered her voice to a deep whisper. “You know... the sex.” Gem nodded, wide-eyed.

Charlie wasn’t sure whether to laugh or be very excited. This day was getting more weird by the second. Somehow, she was still digging it, but if they brought out anything weirder, like a goat or something, she’d be out Audi before its first bleat.

And that’s how, half an hour later, she found herself at a strip club, in the front row, watching a hapless girl with no sense of balance try to navigate pole dancing. She was not successful in her endeavors, but Charlie tipped her anyway, out of pity.

“So, why are we here, exactly?” Charlie asked Gem, as the poor non-dancer finally left the stage.

“We’re waiting for the main attraction. Oh!” she exclaimed as the music changed. “Here she comes!” Gem clapped rapidly in excitement and PanAm did the same.

Charlie turned back to the stage and heard the announcement begin. “Ladies and gentlemen! In a limited engagement, for one night only, the Red Carnation is pleased to present the famous, the infamous, the one and only...Jennnnnnnyyyyy Thunnnnderrrrrrrrr!”

A crowd Charlie hadn’t even noticed roared to life behind where they were sitting, pounding applause and stomping their feet so hard Charlie could feel it in her chest. Gem and PanAm were on their feet clapping too. Then the lights went out and a single spotlight landed in the middle of the stage.

_Pour Some Sugar On Me_ began to play and a figure backed onto the stage, in a sparkly mini dress and heels taller than Charlie’s car. She had great legs, Charlie would give the woman that. She had long, ash blonde hair and moved with a lot more grace than the previous occupant of the stage. Charlie was definitely getting a little bit into it, as the long, lithe form started removing bits and bobs whilst gyrating like a snake across the desert.

When Jenny Thunder finally reached the pole, she turned around—and Charlie almost swallowed her tongue. The woman turned and looked right at her, giving her a wink with one of her unfathomably green eyes. Familiar eyes, despite all the makeup. Familiar face. That wasn’t Jenny Thunder. That was—

“ _Dean_?!”

*****

Dean was pretty pissed after Charlie’s last visit, when Cas had come in and asked why they now had surveillance cameras installed all over the bunker. He still had enough angel mojo to notice things like that, though hopefully not enough to realize just how hot Dean’s thoughts about him were getting lately. Damn Mark of Cain really gave him an itch under his skin for the dirtiest deeds in life.

Thankfully, his annoyance with his adopted little sister kept him focused enough to get Cas’ help locating all the cameras. Then, with Sam’s help, they’d worked out a way to find out exactly when the cameras were being tapped into. With help from some friend of Sam’s from his Stanford days, they also managed to hack into Charlie’s laptop and commandeer her webcam, so they could track _her_.

Then Dean began plotting his revenge.

He put an ad on Craigslist for a couple of actresses fitting a certain description and found the perfect girls. Then all he had to do was bribe a postmistress $20—not as hard as he’d expected—and bribe a strip joint to let him dance—a lot harder than he’d anticipated, until he’d put on his costume.

What he hadn’t counted on was how much he was going to enjoy dancing on that stage in that dress—and out of it. The sound of the audience cheering him on was a stronger pull than even the Mark could boast. Plus, he looked really fucking hot in that outfit. He felt good in it.

He felt a little bad when he saw Charlie’s face and knew she recognized him. She’d obviously been getting into it too, so that made him feel worse.

What he never counted on was Cas not staying in the damned car.

He felt someone besides Charlie staring him down and looked up to see the sort-of-angel standing in the audience, staring at him with the same deer-in-headlights look he’d had at the brothel all those years ago. Dean was pretty sure he was making the same face back. He faltered slightly in his routine and knew it had to get it together. He spared another glance for Charlie, who had evidently seen Cas because now she looked smug.

“Dammit,” he whispered to himself.

Never one to back down from a challenge, he climbed off the stage and started dancing in front of Charlie’s table. She looked disgusted and waved him away, then got an evil light in her eyes.

“Cas!” she called out, waving a twenty. “You want a lap dance? My treat!” she called, with a grin that Dean wanted to—

— _Oh, God, is Cas nodding? He’s nodding, what the hell?_

“Looks like you’re dancing on the angel, _Jenny_ ,” Charlie said with malicious glee dripping from her words.

Cas looked up at him with wide, nervous eyes. Dean gathered all his resolve and gave himself over to the dance. He straddled Cas’ lap and started writhing on it. He was doing fine, staring straight into those baby blues, just dancing like he was supposed to—until he accidentally bumped into something with his ass that was most definitely  _not_ lap.

He wasn’t sure whose eyes were wider, his or Cas’, but Dean was pretty sure he was the most freaked out and turned on by the whole thing.

“Time’s up,” he said, breathless and not from dancing, when the song ended.

He wasn’t prepared for the thunderous applause—or the number of people who wanted a piece of him. Luckily security was ready to lead him backstage where he could get changed in peace.

Once he was himself again, it was easy to sneak past the throng of gross, grope-happy men unnoticed. He got around to the front to find Charlie, the actresses and Cas all waiting for him.

“What the hell, Dean?” Charlie asked.

“You put surveillance cameras in the bunker is what the hell, Charlie. This is known as payback.” He was gratified to see her looking contrite.

“How did you even find out?”

“Cas’ mojo picked up on it. Wasn’t hard to figure out who did it. Then we got your webcam rigged up, and I hired these two ladies to get you to the strip club.” He dug into his wallet and pulled out some cash. “Here’s the rest of your fee, by the way.”

“Eh, keep it,” the one named Gem said. Then she leaned over to Charlie and said what sounded like, “The three-way is still totally on the table, if you’re down.”

Charlie turned the same color as her hair, so he thought it must have been.

“Dean, I would like to speak with you privately when you’ve finished explaining your childish prank to Charlie and she’s finished arranging coitus with these two young women.”

Dean grimaced. “Cas! Dammit, man, don’t say coitus. It sounds like a disease.”

“Dean, it just means sexual—”

Dean’s expression flat-lined. “I know what it means, Cas. Let’s go. Bye, Charlie. Gimme a hug and stop snooping on me.”

“Hey, how’d you hack into my camera, anyway?”

Dean grinned. “You’re not the only computer geek I know. And my other guy might just be better.”

“That’s not funny or true, Dean,” Charlie said. Then she turned to Gem and PanAm. “So, about that three-way...”

“That is our cue to leave, Cas.”

Back in the Impala, it was time for the awkward conversation. Instead, for the first few minutes, they both just sat in tense silence. Finally, Cas was the one to break the impasse.

“Dean, I’m sorry if my attraction to you makes you uncomfortable. It was inappropriate to ask you to dance on my lap. I thought I could control myself, but your writhing form was simply more than I could handle. My apologies.”

“Your attraction to fake female me is understandable,” Dean teased to try and cut the tension. “I look hot in a dress.”

“Your attire is immaterial.”

“No, I’m pretty sure it was all material. Thin, sure, but—”

“Dean. Please don’t make bad puns right now.” Dean shut up. “My attraction to you precedes your juvenile attempt to get back at your friend for looking out for you. It is not contingent upon your mode of dress or even your skill with dancing on a pole—though I will admit the latter was quite pleasing to watch and probably added to my overall distress when you were in my lap.”

“You... want me?”

Cas leveled that squinty-eyed glare at him. “Dean, you really need to learn to pay attention when I speak. It’s quite frustrating to repeat myself. Yes, Dean, as I’ve stated multiple times now, I want you.”

Dean yanked the car to the side of the road, excitement pounding through his veins. “Then why the hell are we driving home instead of to the nearest motel?”

“I—what?” Cas asked, obviously not prepared for this reaction.

“You want me. I want you. Let’s do this thing!”

“You do?”

Dean rolled his eyes as he turned the car around. “Now who is making people repeat themselves? Hell yeah I want you. I figured angels weren’t really into the whole sex thing, but obviously that’s not the case. Then I thought it was just girl me you wanted, but you said it’s not that either. So I say, we’ve wasted too much time already, let’s not waste anymore. Whaddya say, Cas? You in?”

Cas smiled the largest smile Dean had ever seen on his face. “I’m in. I’ve wanted to have coitus with you for a very long time, Dean.”

Dean gave him a blank look. Then he pointed. “You know what? Since I’m about to get laid, I’m gonna let that pass, but so help me, you will not use that word when we’re naked, Castiel.”

Dean was no prepared for Cas to suddenly rush to his side of the seat, lower his voice to its rumbly depths and whisper, “Aren’t you excited to have _coitus_ , Dean?”

Suddenly, it didn’t sound that disgusting after all.

Just then, Dean realized the car was almost out of gas. He stopped at the local Gas&Sip and Cas insisted on coming inside. Cas went shopping while Dean paid for the gas and went to the men's room. When he came out, Cas was already in the car.

Dean climbed in and found Cas eating what appeared to be a pudding cup. Which, while eating pudding in the Impala was a punishable offense, Dean was still getting laid, so he opted to let it go.

"I took the liberty of buying us some prophylactics and lubricant," Cas said, in between bites. "I also got this delicious chocolate cake flavored yogurt."

"Yeah, I can see that," Dean said, starting the car. "Thanks for thinking of the supplies."

"Incidentally, Dean," Cas said, getting all close and rumbly-voiced again. "If you cleanse properly, I'd be willing to try _rimming_." Then he popped another bite of yogurt into his mouth.

Dean sped toward the motel as fast as he could.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy birthday, SFG! ~~to everyone else, I'm so profoundly sorry. This was meant to be a tumblr fic but it got way too long for that.~~ ♥ ~~Actually, I'm not really sorry at all. I am an evil being like that. xD~~


End file.
